


Editor's Comments

by AntivanCrafts



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders' Electricity Trick, M/M, Yet another kinkmeme prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntivanCrafts/pseuds/AntivanCrafts
Summary: In which Anders has a few things to say about the latest draft of Varric's stories, Varric is frustratingly amused at his critique, and really, there is only way to settle this...





	Editor's Comments

Varric heard Anders coming long before he saw him, thanks to the friendly drunks who recognized the mage and called out greetings on his way through the common room below Varric's own private quarters, and so he had plenty of time to throw himself into his writing chair and compose his face into something suitably thoughtful.  
  
"Varric!" Anders yelled above the hubbub, music to Varric's ears. It was, in fact, exactly the reaction he had wanted and expected when he'd written the piece Anders was waving in his hand as he came in. "Varric!" It seemed to be all Anders could say for a moment, his face twisted with exasperation into an expression that had Varric grinning right back. That seemed to make Anders find the words he'd been searching for. "Come on, Varric! Grease spells and electricity? Really? Do you have any idea how flammable that is? It'll blow faster than qunari fireworks, and with twice as much of a vendetta against you, personally."  
  
"Oh, I don't know about that," Varric said, to a groan, "I thought the combination was particularly spicy, under the circumstances." His eyes crinkled when Anders scowled at the mention of the word 'spicy' as Varric had known he would, and looked back down at the writing he'd been pretending to do when Anders had come in. "Call it creative editing, Blondie," Varric said down at his manuscript. It took everything he had not to visibly smirk.  
  
"Cre- Its flat out lying! It's dangerous! Magic has consequences, Varric! You can't go using it irresponsibly without years of-"  
  
Ah, there it was. "Training?" Varric said mildly down at his papers. He let Anders sputter for a few moments while he made a note in his papers to research electricity more thoroughly on his own time, looking up only when Anders threw himself onto the table just beside those papers that were still wet with ink.  
  
"You," Anders said in a tone that had Varric prick his head up, "are a very infuriating dwarf."  
  
"And you are a most interesting mage," Varric returned in kind. His eyes flickered of their own volition to a small seam between Ander's coat where it had ridden up and the tops of his boots, where a flash of skin was visible. "A muse, if you will."  
  
"I won't." There wasn't any heat in the words anymore, however, at least not the kind he'd been hearing the last few minutes. Varric tore his eyes away from Anders' leg, as distracting as it was, and up to a knowing quirk of a brow. It was his turn to be considered at great length, with sweeping looks up and down that had Varric straining now to shift in his seat.  
  
Anders shifted on the table. Varric hardly took any notice of the mess of papers or smeared ink, not with the way that Anders was now straddling his chair, one leg on each arm of the chair and leaning forward to prod at Varric'c chest.  
  
"Strip."  
  
"Huh?" Varric thought it was very eloquent, under the circumstances.  
  
"There are several ways to settle this, but only one that will convince you. Strip. Don't worry," he added with what could easily be an infuriating smirk if it hadn't set Varric's blood racing to several important places, "I'm a healer."  
  
Varric started to peel off his clothes with what would have been embarrassing speed if he hadn’t been otherwise occupied with Anders’ wandering hand, which had drifted down to his sah, teasing at what lay beneath. "The coat stays on."  
  
"Oh?" Varric said with a wicked grin that had a flush spreading down Anders' chest. Varric wanted to see just where else it went. "Any particular reason? Wouldn't want to get it dirty now, would we?"  
  
Anders licked his lips, then said in a voice that barely shook, "The coat stays on."  
  
"As the muse demands." Varric bowed low in his seat, and remained bent so that he could cast a long, lingering glance upwards through his lashes at Anders' own state of undress as Anders peeled off his own clothes. He was hasty about it, Varric couldn't help but notice, though whether it was out of excitement or nervousness was debatable. That was, at least, until he saw the very visible sign of Anders' interest. "The muse is, apparently, very demanding.”  
  
The earned him a laugh and a wave of the hand. “I haven’t said you’re done yet.”   
  
Varric set to work putting words to deed, though he took his time about it. Made sure to put some hip into it as he wriggled out of his boots and trousers, leaving his sash and gloves for last. The gloves, he peeled off in exactly the sort of fashion he figured Anders would expect. With his teeth. And, as predicted, that got the flush staining Anders’ cheeks to deepen, and his hands to shaking where they’d smoothed across varric’s broad chest. “You know,” Varric said as he very carefully set his glove behind Anders, just close enough that he could brush his now bare fingers across the sensitive skin of Anders’ hip. It was impossible not to stare, to drink him in. There was some worry lingering in the back of his mind, too, at how skinny the mage had become under those concealing layers, but one thing at a time. Sex first, meddling later.  
  
With that in mind, Varric reached out and tugged Anders off of the table and into his lap. They both gasped when the movement brought their cocks rubbing together. Anders arched, his hands clenching tight on Varric’s chest in a way that made him quite forgetting how to breathe. "This," Anders purred right by his ear when he’d recovered, the ghost of warmth making Varric shudder out a moan, "is where I'm told blood magic comes in handy. But we aren't talking about that. What we are talking about," he said, sitting back so that he was straddling Varric's lap, "are the benefits of practical magic. Magic like this." So saying, he bent to press the barest hint of his fingertips on Varric's shoulders and around the back of his neck.  
  
His fingers were warm, warmer than they had any reason to be, and it was impossible not to sink back into his chair as Anders massaged them into knots Varric hadn't even known he had. "Practice," Anders said from a thousand miles away and yet close enough to make Varric shiver with the passing of his breath, "does come in handy."  
  
Varric muzzily felt Anders shift in his lap, taking one hand away to slide it down his chest and then away, but he was too busy sinking bonelessly into the heat to pay it much notice. That was, until Anders’ long-fingered hand gripped him by the base of his cock. Varric’s hips leaped up before he could even open his eyes, groaning out a filthy word between his teeth that had Anders laughing. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” he heard Anders’ say just before his hand tightened.  
  
The next moment, every thought he had in his head was stripped away as a series of pulsating shivers of electricity shot through and around his cock. Not enough to hurt him, never, but more than enough that Varric’s back bowed as he let out a wordless, inarticulate yell, then another, as Anders started to stroke Varric’s cock. He never let up the warm, tingling hints of his magic, magic that had Varric whimpering and rutting into Anders’ hand like a teenager. When Anders added that twist on the end that Varric himself used, he said something that made Anders briefly pause.  
  
Varric fluttered open eyes that he hadn’t even been aware had fallen closed, just in time to see Anders rearrange his features into a smile. “Good boy,” Anders hummed, and something about those words made an entirely different warmth pool in the pt of his stomach. “What a good boy you’re being.”  
  
“Is the sweet talk a- a usual part of this?” Varric managed, to a laugh.  
  
“Not always. Just when I think it's something needed, more than asked for.”  
  
Varric didn’t have time to puzzle that out, because the electricity had started up again, and he settled back into a blissful, thoughtless existence for what felt like a thousand years but not long enough, all at the same time.   
  
When he finally emerged enough to lift dazed eyes up at Anders, it was to see the mage lifting away fingers that shone with grease that smelled distinctly similar to the type Varric himself preferred. He wondered at that for the bare space of a breath before Anders was lowering himself onto Varric’s cock and then, oh, it was hard to think anything at all.   
  
He tried his best, though. He had a reputation to maintain.   
  
So he chattered, half to himself, while he smoothed his hands up Anders' hips to his ribs and dragged them back down, making Anders let out a soft sound he wanted to hear again. So he repeated the motion, again and again with minor variations in pressure and location until Anders was working himself restlessly on Varric's cock, riding him so that his loosened hair swayed between them. A curtain that Varric had no problems whatsoever reaching through to stroke his knuckles up Ander's cheek. Anders opened eyes that had fallen half-closed in a languor and stared at him with an unreadable expression until Varric gave a rock of his hips that tore a groan out of them both.  
  
“Bet you say that to all the pretty dwarva,” Varric told him between thrusts, half a laugh and half a groan, all mingled together into Anders’ neck.   
  
Anders made a noise that may have been encouragement but was probably frustration of multiple kinds, and bit Varric’s shoulder. Varric’s hips jerked, then again, his thrusts stuttering and falling out of time. “Just so you -ahh!- know, Blondie,” he grit out, “you keep that up-” a gasp when Anders bit him again, harder, and sucked until he drew out a deep groan that vibrated where they were pressed together, “I’m- I’m going to-” a whimper, for the first time, at a scrape of teeth and a wriggle of Anders’ hips, “might be a good idea to-”  
  
“Varric,” Anders sighed against his skin between one rock of his hips and another, burying Varric’s cock deeper in his ass until he bottomed out with a groan, “you talk too much.”  
  
That surprised a huff of a laugh out of him, breathless and wanting and desperate as the clutch of his hands where they were bracketed around Anders’ hips. And then the time for talking was gone and past, Varric burying his face where Anders couldn’t see the sudden, desperate ache on his face as he thrust one, twice more before spilling himself deep inside Anders’ ass, deep enough that it was hard to tell where he ended and Anders began.  
  
The whole world fell away for a few blissful breaths. In, carrying with it the smell of sex and woodsmoke and something that was distinctly Anders, out of a sigh and a curl of his arms that tugged Anders closer. In, and out. He could stay like this, if not forever, then as close as anyone could get in this world.  
  
And then the moment ended. Anders was moving. Varric automatically loosened his grip, perhaps too fast, allowing his hands to slip down to Anders’s thighs as Anders leaned back in a way that had even Varric's softened cock twitch. Anders tossed his head to peer down his nose at Varric. "I want a promise, here and now, that you won't print any of that- that libel anymore. You'll just get silly young mages doing even sillier things that will end with one of both in my clinic."  
  
"I can't make any promises, Blondie," Varric panted on a laugh, "not if it brings you right back here."  
  
Anders looked at him strangely for a moment, then shook his head and swung himself over so that he lay curled around Varric's side. His long limbs tangled together with Varric's in a way that was entirely satisfying and warmed a spot in his chest he hadn't even realized was aching. "You only had to ask you know," Anders said into the curve of Varric's shoulder.  
  
Anders was tense and still, as relaxed as his posture seemed, the fine shudders running down his frame only easing out when Varric reached out a wide hand and tucked him closer. "Blondie," he murmured, "I've been doing that every day since we met. Thought you'd have noticed by now."


End file.
